the god delusion

I am so an atheist. Just buy this The God Delusion

edited the depression, a cold front for a warm back

well, I edited this peice of navel-gazing (as opposed to naval-grazing, which is eating ship lawns), as it was deeply black-dog in outlook (that fucker bit my heels for a whole year) and ultimately unrewarding, either for you (dear reader) or me (cheap writer). Damn, you only get that joke if you were born before the Singularity

Cod philosophy. For the following I will remind you of: self referencing sentences; the Epimenides' paradox; Russell's paradox; and maybe a bit of Cantor's diagonal argument vs. Jazz Butcher (though not yet).

• Self reference: this statement refers to itself
• Epimenides: this statement is false
• Russell: what set does the set of all sets that don't contain themselves belong to?
• Cantor Jazz Butcher: some infinities are bigger than others; when one gets up, goes out of the room, it gets replaced by another

So I have two self-referencing questions, the answers to which are always yes or no because they ask if something has a property (and that's the only choice you get), but the trick is that they ask if they themselves have a particular property - for example "is this question written in English?". 1 is the definition of yes; 2 is the pathological (in the epiminedes/russell sense) definition of no

1. is the answer to this question affirmative? - answer yes, and the question answers itself, in a way that can't get more affirmative
2. is 'the answer to this question negative? - answer no and you're lying, answer yes and you're wrong

2 is more interesting because I could always answer no to 1, but 2 circles recursively. Then I'll enumerate the set of all questions and show that there's always one question not numbered (not in the set of all questions, but still a question). Haven't worked this bit out yet, which is where Cantor comes in. Can't quite work out whether I'm taking the piss here. "Is it sugar?"

the penis mightier than the sword

well, it made me laugh.

Blogged with Flock

the other me

diskgrinder

My altar ego; catholic id. Unofficlal anti-fanatic (apathetic fundamentalist, ordered anarchy).

No unbelief behooves me to say the opposite. No way.

Blogged with Flock

poopod

poopod
poopod
piece of shit zune poopod

wear a suit, wear a zune. For all you corporate types: the new badge of incompetence.

Blogged with Flock

Spam wisdom: Inculcate the trifecta.

Inculcate the trifecta. Major league inscruatbility here. There's no escaping the ineffable transcendence of spam.

God is a bastard

You tell me who is dad is then.

Votive hole

Missed vole

Everything up

More Questions

Voice-over plankton strike. It's not an unhappy coincidence that this begins to sound as if we have constructed this post from cut-up spam.

That's not my favourite (and you can tell I'm english because I spelt that correctly), no is it my tiresome insistence.

See, it's just words that are in random grammatic order.

How do you know this isn't generated?

In the sullen dormitory

He spat and he spluttered and walked up and down the ranks of bunks.

He swore and coughed. His head down and forward, a glower on his brow, he was dark and sour and ill-lit by light from his lantern burning yellow.

We called him long-knife, and cowered in our beds, waiting for him to pass. Because: if he turned; if he turned at your bunk; you didn't want to know, and hoped he picked the one above, below, just not you.